


A Watson: The Beginning

by Nan203



Series: The Mastermind Trio [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-04-04 19:32:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14027217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nan203/pseuds/Nan203
Summary: A new mystery presents itself to the good Doctor of 221b. In the form of a young man with no name and a lost view of the world. The mystery continues for the residents of 221b but will the outcome with this new figure be good or will it bring hell?Thank you, my friends, Chantal for betaing and encouragement. Josh, Jasmine, Al, and Bryan for pestering me to make this fic and continue writing!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yellow Nan203 Reporting.
> 
> This is my first time publishing something here on Ao3, and wow am I nervous. Kay the copyright disclaimer. I don't own or profit off these characters of Sherlock, and I am just playing with them to get all these stories out of my head before I explode. 
> 
> Let's begin with a few ground rules, please.  
> 1\. be nice in the comments, or I shall report you  
> 2\. Constructive criticism is always helpful. If destructive criticism, well see rule above.  
> 3\. This is my baby, my dreams, and fantasies on "paper" so if you have a problem with my ideas; there is a back button.  
> 4\. This is the most important: Enjoy yourselves and smile for you are alive, breathing, and reading something made with love.

A Man Marked for Death

The pitter-patter of raindrops fills the otherwise silent space. Blood is slowly flowing down the storm drains of London. Four bodies are becoming cold as life departs them. Not far one body slowly drags itself away. Harsh breathing continues as the dying person slowly moves into an alleyway. Confusion and panic are on his face as he settles propped against the wall, looking towards the street. A car zooms by; it’s lights reflect off amber eyes for second before going on. Inside the mind of the young man, a thousand thoughts shift through. 

I am going to die 

I don’t want to die 

Why must I die 

I am just a tool 

I need to complete my mission 

What is my purpose 

I can be free 

I will be done 

I am dying 

Time is passing by in unknown measurements as this man of mystery slowly accepts his inevitable fate. But fate is a funny thing. She does not care if you are rich or poor, happy or sad. She has a plan, and few can escape it for long. The man’s vision starts to blur and thinks to himself ‘Finally’ until he hears footsteps accompanied by water splashing from each step. He hears a voice in front of him, and a shadow darkens his already distorted image. Someone is touching him and tilting his head up. 

“Hang in there, ok. I am calling an ambulance now. You’re going to make it, you hear me!” The voice said. The man didn’t understand this. ‘Why would anyone care? I am just a tool.’ He struggles to speak and rise, but the hands of the voice are holding him down. 

“Don’t move too much you’ll open your wounds more. You’ve lost a lot of blood. I am trying to seal them as best as I can.” There are sounds of something tearing and warmth surrounds the man. Painfully he strains to see the face of the voice. The voice belonged to a blond man, short but strong given how he was slowly raising the dying man up. ‘No, I am just a tool. I am nothing to save.’ He thinks and again tries to speak. This time he croaks out his thoughts. 

“Nnno. Lllet…mme…ddiee.” 

“What!? No, you will live. You hear me. Just hang in there." 

"Wwhyy? I am...nothing but a tool. I have no other....purpose." The older man looks shocked at this stranger’s words. His face shapes with anger. 

"You are young, and life is still long for you. Not everyone finds their purpose right away in life. You can't give up. Stay with me, and I promise to help you find your way, ok?" Those words shocked the dying man and sharpened his mind. 'What? I can have a purpose? Why would...this...person care about me?... I..I...I don't want to die." The noise of siren coming closer pierce the air. Vision starts to blur again, and his mind begins to panic struggling to breathe. He tries to grip his savior but fails, and he just looks at him as the other man is carrying him by his side. 

"Do you...mean it?" The blond looks down in confusion at the stranger. 

"What?" 

"That you....will help...me?" 

"I promise." The man vowed smiling down. The young man felt content and safe as he slipped into darkness. 

"Then...I WANT TO LIVE! Thank...yoouuu."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John gains a crumb of knowledge, and the mysterious person makes a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again Everyone
> 
> Review of my rules  
> 1\. be nice in the comments, or I shall report you  
> 2\. Constructive criticism is always helpful. If destructive criticism, well see rule above.  
> 3\. This is my baby, my dreams, and fantasies on "paper" so if you have a problem with my ideas; there is a back button.  
> 4\. This is the most important: Enjoy yourselves and smile for you are alive, breathing, and reading something made with love

**Not an End but a Strange Beginning**

The darkness fades into blinding light as the young man comes back into the world. Sounds of muffled beeping and machinery reach his ears. 

_‘What is…where am I’_  his mind slowly awakening. As thoughts begin to come to him so does a rush of memories.

Shapes of people coming towards him. Angry shouts followed by pain on his body. A feeling of dread and fear as a knife appears. Blood…. Lots of blood that is what he remembers. Wet, cold…there was rain. A voice...a strange voice that didn’t belong to the shouts from before. That voice made him feel safe, protected…A promise…was made. And now there is a pain. Intense pain that rips the young man out of his mind. 

He slowly opens his eyes, bright light initially blinding him. The man senses are more concentrated now that he is focusing on his surroundings. The room is mostly white helping the lights bounce and illuminate the room. Two chairs are opposite the bed the man is laying on with an end table separating them. A vase of flowers along with several magazines is on top of the table. The noise that was once muffled now rang in his ears. The young man slowly moves his head left towards the disturbance to see monitoring machines. 

_‘A hospital’_  he realizes, fear rising in his chest.  _‘I am in a hospital. This is not my mission…I need to get out of here…I…I.’_

Panic filled his mind when a snore caught his attention making him strain to move his head in its direction. The snore came from his right. A man is sitting in a chair by the bed. Eyes widen as the sleeping man's face came into view. The sight caused more memories to return. 

The voice, a warmth, soft eyes, a sad than angry face. It all came back in a dash. That man helped him. The man who made that promise. Relief flowed through his body relaxing the young man. Curiously the man began to take in the short man’s features fully. 

The man had dirty blond hair that was cut short. His skin wrinkled and bags under his eyes. He had short, wide ears that slightly pointed out from his head. He had a wide nostril and bridge. His mouth was partially open and frowning. His body was slouched in the chair with arms crossed his chest. All though features brought a startling realization to the young man. He quickly looks away from the sleeping man. 

_‘No…he can’t be…there must be a mistake…surely he can’t…be my…mission…’_   Regret and shame replace that relief that had felt so comfortable. 

_‘This can’t be…This…….’_

_‘NO, I won’t do it!’_

_‘I…I can make this choice.’_

_‘This man helped me and made me feel.’_

_‘Safe…Happy’_

_‘I think that’s what I felt.’_

_‘What should I do? I have to…’_  A voice cut off his thought. 

“Thank god, you’re finally awake. How are you feeling? You were severely pasted, with a deep stab wound.” 

The injured man moves his head back to stare at his savior. When he looks at him, he…feels something. Unsure of what to do he merely stares at the blond. Said man blinks then slowly stands up to get closer to the bed. He puts his hands up in a non-threatening manner. 

“Can you speak? I know that you’re probably still disoriented, but I want to figure out what happened to you.”

That voice was gravelly yet soft somehow. Those brown eyes were strong while being filled with kindness. What a strange man. Thought the man on the bed as he nodded his head.

“Pain…there is pain.” He moaned out trying to sit up. Strong hands gently push him back down. 

“Take it easy now you’re still recovering from your ordeal. Let’s just talk, ok?” The blond asks while slowly raising the bed so the patient could be in a better position. 

“…Alright…” 

“Good, alright then my name is John Watson. What is yours?” The young man turns his head away, muttering under his breath. “What did you say?”

“I…don’t…have a name.” Confused John looks at this strange person. 

“What do you mean you don’t have one? Everyone has a name.” The strange man looked back at John almost like he was ashamed. 

“I…I wasn’t…given a name. To…Tools don’t get names.” He replies quietly looking down at his hands. 

“That word “tool.” You used that word when I found you. Why do you call yourself that?” John questions.

“Because…that’s what…I am. A tool. Tools have no name, have no life, have no purpose only missions…” Shame starts to consume this nameless man until John’s voice causes him to stare at the blond.

“You are a person! I don’t know who told you otherwise, but they are WRONG!” John stated. His face showed anger.

“…I don’t know…I…I…afraid…I….Don’t know what to do…What do I do? You said that I had a purpose. You said that you would help me find it! What if I can’t?” He says gazing at John with fear and uncertainty. John softly speaking, grips tighter on his hand.  

“I did promise that I would help you and I will. We will take this one thing at a time.” Nameless considers those words then nods his head. He grips John’s hand experiencing a new emotion again. 

“Where do I begin?” Nameless asks.

“Alright, do you remember what you were doing in that alley that I found you?” 

“I was…dying. The world darkened, and everything was muffled.” Nameless replies in confusion as he thought that was obvious. The blond shakes his head and rephrases his question.

“I meant before you were starting to lose consciousness. How did you get that stab wound?”

“There was a man…He…had a knife. A large curved knife. The blade was 5’4’. He stabbed me. I remember he laughed as I bled.” Nameless whispers that last part. He began to think about his choices…his choices. Those two words so strange and foreign to Nameless. Yet, he liked them and the sense of power they gave him. A type of control that he never had. 

“There were more men with him,” John states to Nameless who shots his head back to John. “I know that the number of injuries to you couldn't have to have been inflicted by one person.”

“There were…four of them.” Nameless considers telling John the whole truth but decides to wait. “…I think…I don’t remember a lot. My head feels foggy. I’m sorry.”

John stares intently at Nameless and opens his mouth to ask something else when a loud rumble was heard. Both men looked at Nameless’ belly as it rumbled again. 

“Probably cause your starving. Hang on I will get something for you.” John gets up, but the young man tightens his grip. John gazes down with a smile at the fearful expression he saw. “Don’t worry. You're safe. I will protect you. I just need to get some food then I will be right back. Promise.” The hand loosens its grip. 

As John leaves the room, Nameless goes back into his head. A realization comes to the surface. Ideas were causing a plan to form in his mind. He could do this he thought with hope. This plan will work. He won’t fulfill his mission. Instead, he will create a mission of his own. He will do what John said. To find a purpose of his own in this world with John at his side. 

Nameless smiles for the first time since he woke up. 

_‘Yes, I will find purpose.’_

_‘I will grow and…’_  He smiles brighter at John as he reenters the room.  _‘…will protect John Watson with my life!’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it. Please leave a kudos and comment if you loved it.  
> I am hoping to add a new chapter by the middle or end of the month. I have a job and school so there might be delays.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John finds more clues to what happened to the young lad he saved, though he isn't sure if he wants to find more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yellow everyone.  
> To start I am so sorry for the long wait. Two reasons stopped the release of the new chapter.
> 
> 1\. I had graduation & finals to do last week, so I had little time to write then send my story to my two betas. (yes I have two, looking for a third)
> 
> 2\. This is the biggest reason. I am terrified you guys will hate this work. I know that might sound silly or stupid, but it is the whole reason why I have never published my story until recently. I love the Sherlock characters, and I want to them to be as close to the BBC tv show personalities. Everyone from my best friends to the girls I teach (12-18) love the original characters and stories I create. They have pushed to have the stories written down so they can read them. I hope people have the same enjoyment that my friends did. (Aaaand I just spewed my inner thoughts over the page.) So please readers comments are wanted and desired.

John was exhausted. Bone tired from work and saving a dying kid. So tired that he could almost overlook the strange, nameless kid, that was currently resting on the hospital bed.    

The lad was maybe in early to mid-twenties. He had a light tan skin with dark brown hair with hints of honey highlights. Hair that appeared to be naturally spiky given the lack of grease or gel in his hair. The boy’s eyes were something John never seen before. He had heard of people having bright amber eyes. They reminded him of the eyes of wolves. The harsh light of the hospital room appeared to darken them. Those eyes that showed fear and sadness when he first woke up, now displayed contentment as heavy eyelids closed. John didn’t know what to make of this unknown kid.    

Mystery seemed to be this lad’s theme if his conversations with John were anything to go by. The Doctor didn’t understand where or who this person was. He knows he should probably call Sherlock in here. That bastard could probably figure out who this kid was at one glance. But the blond didn’t call him. Instead, he talked to this nameless boy. He found this boy intriguing and strange.   

"I am...nothing but a tool. I have no other....purpose."   

John remembers those words he was told. He gazes down at his hands, they were covered in blood only a few hours before.    

'Why would he say that? Did someone say that to him? Why!' John thinks angrily as he returns his gaze back to the body on the bed. The boy looks so young and innocent but then the doctor is taken back to that alley. Seeing him leaning against a wall, bleeding out, drenched and covered in grime just made the blond pissed. The time during the ambulance ride was all a blur. The boy was blessed under a lucky star that he was close to John's work or he would have died in that alleyway.    

The doctor figured that the lad's information would be revealed when they got to the hospital. That wasn't the case. Medical staff fixed him up properly and took a blood sample. When the result came back, the hospital said that his blood is not on file anywhere. The X-Rays were what truly disturbed John. The X-Rays revealed that the lad used as someone's personal punching bag. Bone fractures, healed breaks, and on his back were whip marks lashed permanently on his skin.      

'I swear when I find the person who did that to you...' John stops himself. Let's out a breath and tries to calm down. He felt such a strong pull towards... Nameless. John shook his head.    

'No, I can't call him that. When he wakes up, I will ask him to pick a name for himself.' John thought with a small smile. He remembered this need to protect when he saw Sherlock and the cab driver. This brunette was so young and broken; it hurt John to imagine the horrors that were inflicted on him. He would figure out what happened to this lad. He could leave now since the patient just went to sleep. He could return to that alleyway where he found the lad. Maybe find the people responsible for the attack.   

The sound of his phone was going off removed John from his thoughts. He pulled out his phone to see that Sherlock was texting him.  

 **Crime Scene by your work.**   

 **SH**   

John huffed, looking back and forth from his phone to the sleeping man on the bed. The next text helps him make up his mind.   

 **4 bodies, one attacker.**   

 **SH**   

That address is where he found his new friend. If the two are linked, then he could figure out what happened by going to that crime scene. But...John paused to gaze again at the lying figure.   

The doctor shakes his head. 'He will be fine. There are good people here that can watch him until I come back.' He explains to himself while gathering his things. John exits the room quietly and flags down a nurse. She nods her head as the doctor tells her a message to give the patient. With that, he hails a cab to take him back to the alleyway. When he gets there hopes to find answers to his questions.   

  

Watson arrives at the alleyway where he found the nameless lad. He doesn’t find police or tape, but he does see the pool of blood, now mixed with water from the rain. From the puddle, he comes across a trail of blood leading farther into the alley. The alley opens to a large area that has to be part of a resident and shopping district. There is a foul stench from the garbage bins pushed against the wall between two doors of what appeared to be part of shops. Across from, there is a fire stairway for the flats above. There are three garbage bins spread out along that brick wall.  The sight of yellow tape makes John feel uneasy. He quickly looks back judging the distance. The lad must have dragged himself from the crime scene before John found him. The doctor feels a lump in his throat as he takes in what is beyond the crime tape. The police are blocking the other side of the area from onlookers. John gaze sweeps across the area to observe Lestrade standing beside Sherlock, who was hovering over several bodies lying by the entrance to the alleyway.   

‘Those must be the victims that Sherlock texted about.’ He thought, ducking under the tape.   

He slowly walked over to them looking on the ground still following the blood trail right back over to the bodies.  

‘What the hell was he doing here so late at night?’ the doctor questioned. Looking around the area for more of a clue and idea something that can lead to the identity or even the reason why the young lad that he left in that hospital was here in this back alley. Only the trail of blood leads him towards an answer and the four corpses. The inspector and doctor nod to each other.  Lestrade resumed writing something down. John crouches down by his flatmate.   

Sherlock looks up and smiles. 'Well, he is in a good mood.' John thinks.  

Sherlock's smile turns down a bit as he takes in the doctor.   

"You were at the hospital." The consultant spoke flatly.  

"Yes, I was." John nodded then looked down at the body his flatmate was previously inspecting. The male was about 5’7” with multiple stab wounds to the chest. John took a glove from Sherlock, still looking over the body as he put it on. He put his hand gently down by the nearest wound taking in the size and depth of the injury. The men look at each other. 

“Knife wounds.” The doctor says. 

“Obviously and whoever was wielding it was a proficient fighter.”  

“There are no hesitation marks.” John remarks before standing up to gaze at the other bodies. Lestrade walks over to them after chatting with an officer.  

“So, Sherlock, a mugging gone wrong?”  

“No this wasn’t a mugging.” 

“Alright, what makes you think that?”  

"The signs are obvious," Sherlock says annoyed.  

"Of course." Lestrade sighs waving his hand at the bodies. 

"The bodies are clustered together which means they were quickly dispatched. Yet this one here," Sherlock turns to the victim that is facing down. "is the farthest from the group says that he was the last one to be killed. He realized he was the only one left, so he tried to flee leaving his side open to attack." The detective points to the man's left side. Blood had stained the shirt just below the rib cage.   

"So, this is what a cold-blooded murder?" Lestrade asks.  

"No, it was an ambush. The men have bloodied knuckles, yet none of them have bruises. They were attacking one person.”  

“There no money or wallet on the ground. Why? Because he didn’t have any on him.” 

“He?” Both men questioned the consultant. 

“Yes, he. He came into this alley for some reason. Then he was ambushed by these men who immediately started to beat him. There some blood on the ground for when the knife was used but no knife anywhere near the bodies. So where is the knife?”  

He looks to his flatmate, his thoughts stop to take in his face.  

John's face was beginning to pale. The facts starting to fall into place. The person they were searching for had bruises all over his upper body and….no It couldn’t be. ‘Please no don’t let it be…’ John felt ill, as his phone rang. He muttered a sorry to the other men, walking farther away to take the call. “Hello?” 

Sherlock would speak to John about this case after he got off the phone. The doctors face looked like he knew something about this case. 

This case was strange. For one, why would these men who don’t have a phone or any id on them try to attack one person? Second, why was an assassin in an alley in the first place. He told Lestrade that the intended victim was too skilled to be a normal civilian. Where had he gone? 

The brunette was frowning trying to figure out that part when his partner's shout claims his attention.  

"HE'S WHAT!?!" Almost everyone around them looked up to see John's face shape into shock and fear. The blond ask quieter now to the person on the phone.  

"He was three stories up!... Did he say where he was going?... What? He said-" John's questions are abruptly interrupted by a shout that echoed from the alleyway that the doctor came from.  

"JOHN!" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Again please leave constructive comments down below. I have a new deadline that I am working hard to. 
> 
> Edit: So here's update I will be updating the chapters whenever I can. I am now in a uni and working part-time so a lot of my time has been sucked away. Sorry, but I will try to get a chapter out every month.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Time on Mastermind Trio (A new beginning story arc) Our mysterious injured lad was left to sleep peacefully while our good Doctor went to investigate what happened to his new "friend". And now the continuation.  
> Enjoy the story.

 

Darkness, Light.  

  

It blurs together to make an ugly grey to some. For some people, the grey has too much black, so it's too dark. Others it is a drop of black added to black that isn't mixed properly. What fuss over colors.   

Life is more than just colors, yet some people focus so much on the colors of the world to feel something. A young soul was engulfed in black was feeling more light as his thoughts became clear.  

The young man wasn’t sure what he was going to do to complete his goals. However, he knew what he wanted in this life his savior had given him. A chance to become normal, a better life was ahead of him.  

Slowly he began to open his amber eyes. Taking in the world around him as a sense of peace filled him to see that he was still in the hospital and not back in that wretched hole he would be pushed into after a... mission. The thoughts of those moments cause him to seek out the figure of his savior. Panic burst in his chest as he saw John Watson nowhere in the room. He made to sit up, wincing as his lower chest stings with pain. He forced the pain away from his mind to search the room again to make sure he was mistaken. Alas he wasn’t, the kind doctor wasn’t in the room neither was his coat.   

‘He left! Where?! He can’t leave! He isn’t safe!’ The lad scrambled to control his fear and manic thoughts when the door opens.   

A woman in scrubs comes in reading a clipboard, frowning she looks up. She appears surprised then smiles at the young man. Her golden hair was piled into a messy bun. She strides over the bed to greet the lad.  

“Hello there, it is good to see you awake. I heard you had a rough time lately, but no worries your safe here.” She walks over to the monitor writing stuff down. “My name is Elizabeth McCallan, and I will be your nurse. How are you feeling?” She sweetly asks.  

“Jjj...John? John?” The nameless man gazing to the door while pleading. The nurse glances toward the door in confusion then towards her patient. His amber eyes lock with hers. Fear and panic were evident in his eyes. She gently placed her clipboard down on the tableside. She looks down at the patient. 

“Are you talking about the doctor, right. He left a while ago. But he left a message for you. He said he is going to find out what happened to you.” The nurse smiled sweetly and put out her hand to gently push the patient back down.  

The lad shot up on the bed, eyes wide in panic. He moved to get up with the nurse now trying to force him down.   

“NO! He can’t! He isn’t safe!” He screamed pushing the nurse away.   

"You need to calm down. You're safe, ok. And the doctor is fine." The woman tried to push him down again. Panic gripped him as he thought of what could happen to his savior.   

"NO! I need to find him. He isn't safe." The nurse stared in shock as the patient yanked out the tubes. He stood with blood coming from his arm. “Sir you need to get back to bed!”  

The man either couldn’t hear or was ignoring her as he moves towards the window. The nurse calls for security. When she turns back to the lad, she is shocked to see him holding a chair. Before she can say stop the patient, to her horror, uses the chair to smash the glass not even flinching as some of the glass pierces his arms. The security guard comes in as the lad is leaping from the window. The guard shouts while the nurse screams. Everything was white noise to the lad as he falls. He grasps a ledge causing pain to shoot through his body which he ignores. He lets go to land safely on the ground, and he runs to the road with one thought pushing him through the pain.  

‘I will not let them take him away from me!’ 

* * *

 

John stared in bewilderment as the very person that he was talking about appeared in front of him. The young man was no longer in his hospital robes but tattered street clothes. A navy hoodie that had rips around the sleeves. He also wore dark jeans that had a mix of dry and wet mud from the knees down. John is positive the lad wasn’t wearing those clothes when he had found him. As he got closer to the good doctor, he appeared to be out of breath.  

“Jo...John you...you can’t be here...It’s not safe!” He pants while reaching out to grab John’s arm. The brunette makes to pull the older man away from the crime scene.  The doctor was surprised at strength the injured younger male had as he tried to move him. But he stood firmly in place.  

“What the hell are you doing here? You're not fully healed yet. You need to be in the hospital...Which just called me.” John gave the young lad a pointed look. “Is it true what they said? Did you really...jump out the window?”  

Amber eyes met brown. The lad looked terrified. His once tan skin was sickly pale. John looked down more closely at the hoodie the boy was wearing. Blood was pooling near his rib cage where he's knife wounds were still healing. Whatever he had been doing had reopened them. As John looked back to the lad’s eyes, he didn’t show any signs of pain.  

“You're not safe here please!” The boy pleads while tugging the man again. “You can’t be here.”  

John looked around in confusion seeing so many police and no danger. “What are you talking about there isn’t anything to be afraid of here. Besides I am trying to find out what happened to you. This is the place you got attacked wasn’t it?” His question was ignored with only more begging. 

“Please, I don’t want you hurt!”  

“I am fine. You are the one that is hurt. How about I rebandage you here and then take you back to the hospital?” 

“NO!” The lad screams. Finally giving up on trying to move the doctor, he simply holds his sleeve with both hands. He bows his head, but John can hear the boy start to sniffle. “I don’t want you to be hurt.” 

That is when Sherlock interrupts charging into the moment.  

“Wouldn’t you be more concerned that you're going to hurt John.”  

Everyone around them stared abruptly at the trio. John's eyes widened as he looked at the young man he barely knew. He is about to object at his flat mate words, but Sherlock quickly tries to separate the two of them.  

Shock is on the boy’s face, but he doesn't loosen his grip on the doctor. He snarls at this new person that wants to remove John from him. 

“I would never hurt John.”  

“I see. And what about these men there,” The detective waves his hand at the bodies. “would you hurt them?”  

For the first time since he came back in the alley, the lad took in the environment. Amber eyes zipped around the lot as he took in the dead bodies in front of him. The brunette could barely breathe as memories poured over him. Frozen in place his hands finally let the doctor go.  

“Sherlock he was attacked! I found last night down that alley. He was bleeding to death I doubt he could do much damage with the state I found him.” John pushed Sherlock away from the lad.  

Sherlock blankly stared as he asked the question. “And yet these men were killed just last night. Why else would he be in the alley that connects to where these men were killed. Don’t be stupid John.” His tone gave away his annoyance. He gazes back to this unknown person. 

The boy appears lost in thought. He scans his surroundings trying to find something. Sherlock notices how tense the lad is when he starts searching higher up towards the roof of the nearby buildings.  

The detective turns towards the building with the garbage bins in time to notice something shine from the roof.  The lad must have seen it too as he reacted immediately.  

“Watch out!” The kid shouted as he pushed John out of the way. A gunshot ranged through the air. Everyone around scrambled for cover.  Sherlock looked up at the roofs to see a figure looming above with a rifle pointed down. The shooter moved away from the edge looking to cover himself. Sherlock looked at a John and the kid in time to see the latter jump up grabbing fire escape ladder. Both gentlemen watched in shock as this mystery person scaled the ladder and stairs with incredible speed to get to the top of the building.  

When he reached the top shouting and grunts were heard as there was no doubt a struggle happening. Another gunshot blasts off as a pained shout is heard. Within moments two bodies fall from the building.  

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Boy. I and my editing rushed through this for you guys. It has been incredibly hard to keep up my chapters while working on finals for three classes one involves making seven maps from scratch (not fun). My Winter break will allow me to have some time to write while also working fulltime. My goal is to finish this story arc by Mid January. Please leave a kudos and comment.


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